


White Veins, Thrumming with Power

by nursehelena



Series: Red, Yellow, Green [8]
Category: Metalocalypse
Genre: BDSM, Dom/sub, Healing, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-08
Updated: 2015-02-08
Packaged: 2018-03-11 05:38:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,225
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3316196
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nursehelena/pseuds/nursehelena
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Traditional therapy doesn't work for everyone, especially not Skwisgaar and Toki. They go an alternative route, in order to minimize the troubles at their backs. </p><p>(Tumblr prompt for anon: Dom!Skwis/sub!Toki with BDSM)</p>
            </blockquote>





	White Veins, Thrumming with Power

**Author's Note:**

> [heavymetalzenmaster](http://heavymetalzenmaster.tumblr.com) did an illustration to go along with this fic, as well. [Feast your eyes ;)](http://careless-skwispers.tumblr.com/post/110707024593/based-on-the-fic-white-veins-thrumming-with-power)

“What does you wants to play wit’, tonight?” 

Reaction to his question sent a shiver of delight down Skwisgaar’s back; when he put the time and patience toward aiding Toki into a submissive frame of mind, he could expect immediate reaction as Toki headed for the box that hosted a growing collection of toys. Pale blue eyes to some degree _always_ regarded Skwisgaar as though they waited for his next order to come, inside _and_ out of the bedroom, but this place required utmost care and attention. 

Skwisgaar wasn’t oblivious toward what Toki sought from him. What initially started as something fun had quickly grown in significance, which could only be measured by the single item that constantly presented itself in Skwisgaar’s hand. As he ran his thumb over the cool leather that made up the riding crop’s handle, Toki resumed naked position on his knees. 

“You aren’ts tired of it, are you?” he self-consciously asked. Gentle fingers running through his hair straightened his spine. 

“Why woulds I? You ask me to hort you, and I ams only happy to oblige.” 

Traditional therapy didn’t work for Toki, in dealing with the baggage he brought from Norway. Talking with Twinkletits only led him in circles, and he generally exited his office in worse condition than when he arrived. Skwisgaar had found a similar truth for himself, when prompted by Charles to do the same. It was all breaking, with no breakthrough. Skwisgaar already knew he was a piece of shit, brought into the world via forces he couldn’t control. He’d accepted a general lack of purpose, of which he must discover for himself. Twinkletits didn’t need to tell him that, for had Skwisgaar not already reached that realization, he wouldn’t have even come to a position where his band’s hired therapist could so sagely pass on such lacklustre wisdom. 

Talking about grievances done upon oneself wasn’t always helpful, and Skwisgaar resented that anyone would ever make Toki think otherwise. If it didn’t work, then was Toki supposed to consider himself unfixable? A lost cause? Therapy was a good place to start in exploring his issues, but for Toki’s sake, it wasn’t the end result. If it turned out that way, then great. Skwisgaar would completely stand behind his bandmate as he shed the unfathomable burdens situated on his shoulders. However, it only pushed Toki deeper inside himself until it eventually spilled over into their bedroom activities. Once it clicked here for Toki, with some gentle prodding in direction of safely explored masochism, he’d taken it like a torch and ran with it. 

“Skwisgaar?” Toki rested his hands on Skwisgaar’s knee, laying down a place for his chin to situate. He turned big eyes on his Dom. “Tells me again why you likes to hurt me?” 

“Because, little Toki, you belongs in a garbage can,” Skwisgaar fondly told him with a smile and tilt of his head, “and you needs to be reminded of dat once in a while. You haves no porpose in dis world but to sorves others. You keeps fucking dat up, so I haves no choice but to punish you.” 

Toki’s rapt attention softened, with his tongue mindlessly wetting his lips where shallow breath had completely dried them. Only here, free of the other guys, did Skwisgaar hear the title he’d earned. “Yes, Sir.” 

“Gets on all fours.” 

That was all Skwisgaar had to say, in order for Toki to place himself in his usual position for this form of play. He eased onto the stone floor, then situated his forehead against crossed forearms in order to lift his ass further into the air. Skwisgaar took a moment to appreciate the blood-heavy organ dangling so vulnerably between Toki’s legs before making some minor adjustments. Using the riding crop like a makeshift wand, he wordlessly prompted Toki to spread his legs far enough apart for his hole to be visible, then moved brown hair off over one shoulder. 

Attention to Toki’s ass with the crop was good, but the upper back still pulled more reaction. A network of gnarly, white scars posed there as makeshift veins. They dictated Toki’s life just as efficiently as iron and oxygen laden counterparts, which now worked double-time to redirect blood to wherever impact was predicted. A flush appeared beneath the scars, deepening the contrast against surrounding skin. Skwisgaar traced over each one of them to draw out a tremble; anticipation got the worst of Toki. 

“Dis ams what happens, when you don’t accept your place,” Skwisgaar stated before bringing the crop down on the most pronounced cross-hatching. “Just because you can’t stays in dis position alls de time, doesn’t mean you amn’ts in one form or another bowings to someone else’s whim. Does you understand?” 

“Yes, Sir,” came the mumble of a response. Toki’s voice broke slightly halfway through Skwisgaar’s title, for it came with another thwack. 

“You weres born for dis,” Skwisgaar reiterated. “You ams a littles piece of trash, and you ams lucky dat someone like me would cares enough to have you.” 

“Yes, Sir. . .” 

Toki’s voice grew quieter and more monotonous, with each vocalization. Skwisgaar used it as a measure for how far he’d descended into subspace, ceasing in drawing blotches across his ass and upper back when they were finally reduced to a whisper. Toki’s breathing drew slow and even; his hearing was in-tune with the clack of Skwisgaar’s booted heel against the floor. It was quiet enough in the room for the creak of Skwisgaar’s jeans to be audible when he squatted down before Toki’s head. 

The riding crop guided Toki’s face upwards, so that he could meet a contemplative gaze. Skwisgaar saw nothing when he peered into cloudy eyes, rightfully meaning that he had complete attention. Whatever whim he might declare would be followed through without question. Such claim to power further stirred his own arousal, similar to Toki’s in strength but hidden behind a passive mask. “You wills make yourself useful, now.” 

“Yes, Sir.” 

“And quit gettings your precum all over my floor.” Skwisgaar said as he tossed the crop aside and pulled his shirt free of his jean’s waistline. “Gets on de bed.” 

Toki perched, ready and willing toward whatever came next, while Skwisgaar took his time undressing. He sat on the bed’s edge to shuck off his boots, then his pants came next. The need for orgasm sat so zealously in his pelvis that Skwisgaar reserved a moment for meditation against it. He’d need to contain himself, for this next phase. “Gets de lube, little Toki.” 

Skwisgaar peered at Toki’s shadowed crack, framed so nicely by the riding crop’s aftermath. Initially, that toy’s use was meant only for the sound effect it created, but Toki’s emotional tolerance toward it allowed Skwisgaar to take him further with it every time. For good measure, Toki’s ass earned another slap. “You ams going to use my cock to fills your hole.” 

“Yes, Sir.” 

“And dis amn’t for you, so unless you ams getting your body ready for me to fits, you hads better not be touching yourself.” 

Skwisgaar laid back, directing Toki to straddle his hips and face the other direction so that he could best witness this phenomenon. It was his own personal form of torture, with his fingers folded behind his head and hot flesh brushing his cock at random intervals. While perennially clumsy to start, Toki quickly gained proficiency in hooking his hole with a couple fingers and trying his best to reach a place where he could satisfy the person that claimed him. He attempted too quickly to admit Skwisgaar after shakingly rolling a condom on, resulting in an impatient sigh. A gasp followed as Skwisgaar coated a couple of his own fingers and slid them in with bare muscular protest. 

“You feels good already,” Skwisgaar purred as Toki leaned forward over his legs, head bowed and whimpering. “You ams better dan anyt’ing else I ever puts my dick into. So tight, makes my head swim.” 

“Th―thanks you.” Toki gasped. “Cans I tries again, please?” 

“Goes ahead.” 

It still wasn’t destined to work; Toki grew impatient with himself and, once again, Skwisgaar leaned back to watch. For any other reason he’d admonish Toki for acting hasty in this situation, but how could he, when he was the reason it surfaced? All Toki wanted to do right now was serve the erection aching away beneath him, and that alone kept Skwisgaar mentally involved enough to stay hard. If Toki didn’t hurry though, Skwisgaar would soon be reduced to blood-filled balls. In order to motivate and encourage, he lazily scratched at Toki’s lower back and stroked his hips. 

He had to work to stay silent when finally, he breached the muscles Toki worked so hard to relax. Enough noise for both of them stemmed from above, as Toki braced himself with one hand on Skwisgaar’s thigh and guided him deeper with the other. What started fully in English soon commenced a transition back toward the first language Toki engaged the world with. Skwisgaar too, though he didn’t comprehend all of what Toki said, got stuck in a Swedish rut. Nails dug into his calves, where Toki clenched his hands to prove that his cock freely bounced of its own neglected accord. Every muscle in his body strained to shaft himself right down to where his bony ass ricocheted against Skwisgaar’s pelvic bone. His reedy voice had such a feminine quality to it, but everything viewable even from behind was so remarkably masculine. 

Skwisgaar grit his teeth and forced himself to vocalize what would get Toki off free from a helping hand. “You am so disgustings. I can’ts believe you actually gets off from being used like dis, you gross piece of trash. You ams truly worthless, no goods to nobody. What woulds you even do, if I didn’ts take you in? Without pity, you woulds be not’ing. You wouldn’ts be in dis band, and like hells I would ever lets you near enough to touch me. It take everyt’ing I have not to shudder, if you does.” 

And there it was, what Skwisgaar waited for and built Toki towards. Toki looked back over his shoulder at the man he fucked himself open with, and a glint of hope sparked in those dull eyes. It spread to his mouth, turning up the corners and birthing a grin resultant of trauma-turned-eroticism. That particular darkness visibly receded in Toki’s mind; long, mindless moans that could only originate from someone with self-confidence wracked Skwisgaar similarly. It required every ounce of restraint to refrain from sitting up and finishing Toki off himself. Patience was the key. In time, the muscles clenching his cock bypassed slack in the rhythm, and Skwisgaar was treated to not only a dizzying squeeze but the effect of orgasm on the body so focused it probably didn’t even register the offensive creaking created beneath them. 

“Keeps going, I amn’ts dere yet,” Skwisgaar panted at the height of it. “Fuck, looks at you. . .fucking sluts. . .” 

It was meant as a transition, between sex and the aftercare that would differentiate this from every other shitty experience Toki had dealing with his problems. Skwisgaar pushed himself to sit up on the bed, wrapped an arm around Toki’s middle, and rested his lips against a shoulder as matched effort from himself rode them out until they were completely spent. He effectively caught Toki as he figuratively fell, overwhelmed by a flush of very mixed emotions; with it, a drop in body temperature eased Toki into light shivers. To stem both those factors at once, Skwisgaar eased Toki off his cock with a murmured command and directed him to tuck his head as shared body heat warmed them beneath the white fur blanket. Toki's breath came as something between trembling pants and the heaves preceding a cleansing cry. Thanks to gentle rocking and soft kisses pressed to his sweaty hairline, the latter was dodged. 

“You dids great,” Skwisgaar assured him when their heart rates returned to normal. “Porfect.” 

“Really?” 

“Mhm.” 

Pride emanated from Toki, from how tightly he wrapped his arms around Skwisgaar’s middle. As Toki warmed back up, some of that heat penetrated Skwisgaar’s chest and wrapped his stubborn heart in fire. He congratulated himself on another session well-done, yes, but this was also what _he_ gained from the entire arrangement. Skwisgaar had yet to figure out a way to tell Toki how much good this did in letting someone within arm’s length of himself, for every possible way to say that sounded too cheesy inside his head to ever speak aloud. Hopefully, Toki understood that a hand idly resting on his ass was more than remnants of domination. Any kisses he received weren’t just meant for comfort, but a show of appreciation. 

Toki gratefully took some water, when handed it. “Thanks agains. Dids you want to pals around, or dids you have somethings else in mind to does?” 

“Mm. . .” Skwisgaar hadn’t even considered it yet. “Mights hit de hot tub later.” 

“Does you wants me to go?” 

“Nah. I’ms goings to nap forst.” Skwisgaar’s eyelids fluttered shut to reflect that. In the moments when both he and Toki were at their strongest―at their highest peaks against whatever tried to hold them down―he wanted them together. “And you ams goings to stays.”


End file.
